


heart ablazing

by sky_blue_hightops



Series: Sun and Moon AU [16]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Parent Gothel (Disney), Cassandra-centric (Disney: Tangled), Gen, Sisters, Swords, The Snuggly Duckling Pub (Disney), idk its cass absolutely vibing bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25567939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: Cass ran.
Relationships: Cassandra & Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled)
Series: Sun and Moon AU [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823434
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	heart ablazing

Cass ran.

The grass under her boots crunched, damp with dew, glittering in the morning light. She allowed herself a wide grin, pumping her arms and reaching with her legs. She felt _alive_ with each step, heart beating strong, and nothing could call her back, nothing could keep her on the ground-

"Cassandra, you foolish girl! Come back here!"

...One thing could call her back. She heaved a sigh, throat rough from breathing hard, and jogged to a stop.

Mother followed at a brisk walking pace, basket swinging gently from her arm, face pulled into disapproval. It stung a little, no matter how many times Cass saw it, but it was no use - disappointing Mother was just inevitable, if you were a boring older sister with no talents and no magic.

She shook her head minutely, as if she could dispel the thought. Today was one of _her_ days, regardless of what Mother thought. She was free, if only for a few hours, if only on a short leash. It felt good to scratch the itch to be wild, to push herself to her limits and fill her lungs, but for now she resigned herself to stepping back into Mother's shadow. She didn't want to return home now, before they'd even gotten to the tavern. Running couldn't beat getting her hands on a _sword_.

She almost hated these trips outside, if it weren't for her personal interest in sharp things. (It was years of learning how cruel the world was, years of conditioning, of being forced to shun the outside that had her so convicted. Her few moments of euphoria, from the running and fighting, were only the illusion of freedom. A naive indulgence in the safe spots of the world just outside their home clearing.) The Snuggly Duckling was pitiful compared to their tower, squat and dirty and rowdy, but the men inside shared a common interest with her (still barely an adult, with a thirst for strength and a penchant for adrenaline) and it was, of course, weapons. They were the first things her eyes sought out each time she'd ducked into the entrance, the first things in her hands when she wrestled her way past the patronage to find her...acquaintances. 

They claimed her as a friend, what fools. They smiled when they saw her and included her in their ridiculous, rousing cheers. Something about taking such a "small lass" under their wings, as it were. She certainly didn't _mind_ the pickpocketing lessons, even if she rarely had a chance to practice. These trips outside the tower were very few and far between, and she was terribly lucky to have them at all.

(She thought of Rapunzel tucked away in her room, no doubt waiting for them to return, and frowned. She didn't like thinking about _never_ leaving the tower. Never getting to run and jump and swing a blade. But if she ever questioned it, who's to say she'd earn herself the same fate? No, it was safest with Rapunzel hidden away. That was how it had always been, and always would be. Mother was so careful about that.)

This trip was special, Mother asserted. It was Rapunzel's eighteenth birthday today, and Mother wanted to "settle some things, dear" and "tie up a few loose ends, now please stop questioning me, Cassandra" before having to leave for a few days to collect the shells Raps had begged for. Cass couldn't even feel angry at the dismissal, still riding the relief from _not_ getting grounded for the botched escape attempt yesterday, the excitement of Mother being gone for three _whole days_ , and! And! getting to fight today. It might as well been Cassandra's birthday today, for all the luck she'd had recently.

That was a lot of emotions to process, so by the time she slammed the door open to the scent of ale and body odor, her hands were itching to feel leather. Perhaps someone would want to spar - those were the _best_ trips. She loved landing blows, feeling the strike of metal on metal. Nothing made her feel in control more than the steel in her bones whenever she fell and hauled herself back to her feet, the exhilaration of a blade whizzing past her face. The door bounced off the wall, barely a peep in the noise of the crowd, and Mother sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Just...run along, Cassandra. We leave in an hour."

Game face on, she wrestled past a game of cards and ducked a flailing mug, boots sliding on sawdust and spilled beer. It wasn't hard to pick out the usuals from the newcomers, and she raked them over with an appraising eye. Cass was slight, barely tall for her age, and a young face combined with her build always meant the other party would underestimate. Perfect for a good bet, and she smiled in a way that was more baring her teeth than actual joy.

She sidled up to a regular that was always good for a longsword, squinting against the lantern hanging nearby. "You wanna borrow?" He asked, and she nodded. "Just come back with my cut, y'hear?"

She nodded again. Words were worthless, here. A good blow said more than a thousand paragraphs, and that's just the way she liked it.

The next table over was packed with a gang of loud, cocky thieves. Everything about them screamed overconfident and overpaid, and she let her determination settle into the line of her shoulders. Prodding the men into agitation was simple. She merely slapped her hand down on the table, palm stinging, and narrowed her eyes. "Who wants to fight?"

Her usual moves were a well-coordinated dance. She was rusty and rough from a lack of proper practice (parrying sticks with Rapunzel didn't count), but these men were nothing if not predictable. She dodged, swung, dipped and swayed and swiped, drew drops of blood and bit her lip until she tasted her own. The brute strength with which her blows were blocked rattled her arms and made her shoulders ache, but she only pushed harder. _This_ feeling is what made it all worth it. This feeling is what made her want to carve her blade into the very heart of the world, to scoop out the rot, to see what she could find if she only dug deep enough. Her opponent's sword glanced off hers, and they tapped out a rhythm together, stepping around the middle of the room, ducking around tables. Some others paid attention, some didn't, but they only blurred in the edges of Cassandra's focus.

Getting him weakened took time she had. Deflecting his blade one last time, sending it flying, it was more the move of her wrist rather than any real strength. The snarl on her face is what brought him to the ground, not the strain of her muscles. And if she could scare him with nothing but her own ferocity, what could she do with _real_ training?

The money, stained barely copper, gleamed in her palm. She tucked half into the hidden pouch in her belt and gripped the other portion in her hand. She'd been saving up as much as she could, but it was hard to raise enough money for her own sword off trips that only happened once in a blue moon. (Her own sword, and when she felt like indulging in a pipe dream, a tower all their own. Money bought things, she knew this, so why couldn't it buy somewhere safe for her and Raps? Somewhere where they could live, and Pascal and Owl could roam, and they could leave when they wanted and stay when they didn't. Mother would be sad, but Mother had made Cass sad enough times in return that she felt no remorse.)

(Sometimes, she wondered if Rapunzel hadn't joined them...would that be Cassandra's life? Free to come and go? Free to set her own path, out in the terrible, terrible world? Guilt followed these thoughts, and she felt so _selfish_ to daydream about her own destiny. But she looked at herself, and saw the untempered steel she was built from, could see who she was and could be, and wanted _more_. Surely, there was more. And surely, she could have it.)

She rubbed at the iron on her lip, ignoring the stinging pain. "Thanks for the business," she muttered, kicking her borrowed sword into the air and catching it with her free hand. Her hour was almost up, which was very fortunate given the fury glittering in her former opponent's eyes. Yeah, time to go.

The sword's owner lingered nearby, and she felt a rush of pride at the idea of anyone wanting to stop and watch her fight. Whether they expected her to win or lose, she didn't care. She knew what she was here for, and how the cards would fall. She nodded to him, thrusting the hilt back into his hands and spilling his cut onto the table next to him. "Cassandra!" A stern voice called, and that was that.

"Coming, Mother," she said, not bothering to raise her voice above the din. The money weighed her belt down, but her chest felt open and light.

* * *

Only a couple miles away, Eugene crawled his way through the tower window, winded and still hurting, and slammed the shutters closed behind him.

Rapunzel took aim with her frying pan, steeled her nerves, and swung.

And that was the _second_ Cass's good luck ran out.


End file.
